Animatus Infernum
by gwill424
Summary: Interrogator Gabriel Radcliffe is called upon to investigate the disappearance of a recently discovered arcane artifact. The case appears simple enough at first but as Radcliffe and his aids dig deeper it becomes clear not all is as it seems.
1. Chapter 1: Suspicions

**Author's Note: This is the first story I've attempted to write that isn't action based. I've tried to make it a mystery and I hope it will flow as such. This is also the first time I've used "adventure writing" as a technique where I don't have a full outline already written as to where this story will end. We'll see how that goes as well.**

**Anyway, this is meant to be Radcliffe's first solo case where Valerian isn't watching over his shoulder the entire time. Hope you guys enjoy.**

* * *

**Chapter 1: Suspicions**

The Leviathan's conference room was so ornate it might have been transplanted into the command vehicle from one of the High Halls of Terra. A heavy wooden table, large enough to seat fifty or more officers, dominated the room. A crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling, flanked by two smaller versions of itself. Thick but luxurious carpet covered the floor from wall to wall. An antique chronometer stood on the far end of the room, its pendulum swinging in time with the motion of the second hand.

Alonzo Del Barco sat in the chair at the head of the conference table. He was tense, his knuckles white as he gripped the chair's arms. He fought the impulse to begin fidgeting in his seat. Del Barco had been to the ends of the known universe and back. He had delved into the darkest holes on the most desolate planets. He had faced beasts spawned in the nightmares of the very warp itself. But nothing in all his years of travel and exploration terrified him more than the man currently pacing up and down the length of the table.

"Tell me again," the man said, turning to face Del Barco. He was tall, dressed in a simple tunic, black trousers, and a dark great coat. A crop of short brown hair covered his head. His eyes were hazel and his gaze was piercing as he looked Del Barco up and down. "Tell me again of the nature of your discovery here on Anprax."

Del Barco swallowed. "I'm not exactly sure what you mean."

"The artifact you found," the man said. "The one that was in your possession before mysteriously disappearing."

"You don't believe I'm responsible for this, do you?"

The man frowned. "It does not matter what I think. All that matters is the truth."

"A bit cliché, don't you think?" Del Barco said, straitening in his chair.

"Master Del Barco, I advise you to not use that tone with me again. Particularly when referring to my Emperor-given duty."

Del Barco slumped again. "What did you say your name was again?"

"Radcliffe. Interrogator Radcliffe of the Emperor's Holy Ordos. Why?"

"Just refreshing my memory."

"I suggest turning your memory back to the situation at hand instead of trivial facts such as my name." Radcliffe pulled a folder out of his coat and slid it across the table to Del Barco. "Allow me to help."

Del Barco opened the folder and sifted through its contents. Most of the pages contained writings, paragraphs upon paragraphs of feverish scribblings that were barely legible. But one page contained an image. It was a drawing, done in charcoal or graphite, Del Barco could not tell, of a statue. That statue was small. The dimensions labeled it wide enough to fit in a man's cupped hands and about twice as tall. It was a figure of some kind, possibly the image of a god long forgotten to time and memory. Del Barco's blood froze when he saw it. He had seen the real thing less than thirty-six hours ago. The actual object had made him want to vomit. He was surprised at how much the urge came back at seeing just a simple sketch of it.

"Where did you get this?" Del Barco asked slowly.

"Unimportant. The Inquisition has had information on the Animatus Infernum for quite some time. I don't need to tell you how dangerous such a tool can be in the wrong hands, do I Master Del Barco?" Radcliffe pulled out a chair and sat down. "It is believed that the artifact was the idol of a long extinct human tribe. We knew its function, and surmised its location based on ancient texts. But we did not anticipate on your little expedition finding it before we could. And therein lies the root of the problem."

"So you're holding me accountable?" Del Barco said.

"That remains to be seen. Right now all you are guilty of is gross negligence when it comes to your security procedures. While men have been executed for less, I am no commissar. I am merely here to determine if you played a role in this or not."

Del Barco said nothing. He locked eyes with Radcliffe and the two men stared at each other, with only the ticking of the chronometer to break the silence.

Radcliffe produced something else from his coat pocket and placed it on the table. Five pictures, each bearing the face of a man, stared up at Del Barco.

"You know these men," the interrogator said. It wasn't a question. "They were part of your team. Three of them, these three, have procured transportation off world in the past twenty-four hours. The whereabouts of these two are currently unknown."

"You suspect them?"

"I suspect everyone. But yes, this group holds my particular interest."

"Because they are missing?"

"These three have been picked up and detained by Imperial authorities. As of fifteen hours ago two of them confessed to shirking their watch duties in exchange for a large sum of money. They do not know the name of their benefactor, only that he is well off, potentially related to some high up government official. The third committed suicide rather than be interrogated. His autopsy has proved fruitless."

Radcliffe removed the three pictures from the table.

"But these two," he continued. "Are ghosts. They have no Imperial records, no data of any kind. Even your expedition logs only list names, height, and weight."

"I tend not to ask questions in my line of work. The people willing to go to the places I visit tend to be a less than savory lot."

"Indeed. Kuthra Cho and Liam Cannis. Have you had any interaction with them during your time here"

"Cho, yes," Del Barco said, thankful to be able to give Radcliffe something of use. "He was only a minor hand on one of the excavation crews. Seemed a straight arrow to me. Surprised he would get involved in something like this. But then again, you can't really judge people these days."

"And Cannis?" Radcliffe asked.

"I don't know him. Hell, I've never seen him before. Not sure what he's doing in my files."

"You must have hired him.:

"I suppose. The face is vaguely familiar now that I look at it, but I can't for the life of me remember what I hired him to do."

"Yes, but-" Radcliffe stopped abruptly, distracted by a small beep in his ear. "What? I'm in the middle of… When? Are you sure? Fine, keep it contained. I'll be there shortly." Radcliffe stood, gathering up the materials on the table. "We are done for now, Master Del Barco. My duties call me elsewhere."

"I understand, Interrogator."

"Keep yourself available, Del Barco, lest you wish to arouse further suspicions."

Del Barco nodded and made to speak but Radcliffe was already gone.


	2. Chapter 2: The State of Kuthra Cho

**Author's Note: I've got the first two chapters written plus a third on the way. Unfortunately things will probably slow down for a while because I need to refocus back on grad school if I aim to graduate this semester.**

The Valkyrie screamed in low over the grasslands going nearly flat out over the open landscape. Beneath it the tall grasses danced violently in the wake of its jet wash. Interrogator Gabriel Radcliffe sat in the passenger compartment alone, staring at a map display on his data slate. "Just a few more miles," he voxed to the pilot. "You can slow down a bit."

The pilot obeyed and Radcliffe felt the gunship's velocity lessen enough for him to stand and move to the side hatch. With a sharp yank, Radcliffe pulled the hatch open and stuck his head out. The wind immediately rushed into the cabin, filling it with a loud roar. Up ahead the interrogator could see a cleared landing zone already occupied by another Valkyrie. "There," Radcliffe said, pointing more for his own benefit than the pilot's. "Set me down there."

Again the pilot obeyed and the Valkyrie pitched slightly as power was diverted to its vertical thrusters. The gunship circled for a moment, hovering as the pilot sized up his approach. Then, with practiced skill, the pilot dropped the Valkyrie down, performing a one-eighty to land nose-to-nose with the Valkyrie already on the ground. Radcliffe hopped down from the passenger compartment and waved a hand towards the cockpit. The pilot returned the gesture before gunning his engines and taking off again. In seconds he was away, engines screaming, heading back in the direction he had just come.

Radcliffe watched until the gunship was barely just a dot in the sky before turning and pressing through the tall grass. It was the dry season on Anprax, yet despite this the bungi grass still grew well above the height of a Space Marine. The yellow blades rattled, voicing their displeasure at being disturbed, as the interrogator forced his way through. After pressing through several feet of grass forrest, Radcliffe came upon a clearing and found what, or more precisely who, he come to look for.

The body was in a dismal state. Local wildlife had chewed on it, leaving ragged holes across the corpse. The left arm was missing entirely, dragged off and eaten by some larger scavenger. The face was unrecognizable, marred by two serious las wounds. The corpse still wore the dark fatigues and blue coveralls common to the employees of the Del Barco expedition.

Two figures stood over the body. One was a man. He had a square jaw marred by a scar that ran up from his chin, along his cheek, to just behind his eye. His hair was greying, kept in a military style "high and tight". An unlit lho stick hung from his mouth and his hands were stuffed in the pockets of his bomber jacket. He gazed down at the corpse, but his eyes were unblinking, as if he were lost daydreaming about something else entirely.

The second figure was a woman. She was dressed in the full combat kit of the 87th Vornian Rifles. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a neat pony tail and she regarded the body with hard blue eyes that peered down over an almost aquiline nose. Her hands were clasped firmly behind her back, which was ramrod straight. Her face bore an expression that hinted in no small terms she found the current situation exceedingly unpleasant.

"Status report, Lieutenant, if you please," Radcliffe said, addressing the woman. The man showed no sign of registering the interrogator's arrival.

Lieutenant Karoline Kendra snapped a brief salute. "I have three squads fanned out and securing the area," she said in a voice that smacked strongly of an aristocratic upbringing. "Vorlin's unit is to the north, Hagar's to the southwest, and Pices' to the southeast. All three have given the all clear."

"Good," Radcliffe said. "Clyde, what's your take here?"

Clyde Vello blinked, the first sign of life he'd given in about ten minutes, and pulled the lho stick from his mouth. "Can't tell for certain, what with his face being messed up and all," he said, his thick hiver accent dragging the words out longer than necessary. "But I think this is one of our missing guys." He knelt down and peered closely at the body's ruined face. "There's a lot wrong here," he said. "Multiple las wounds, five to the chest, two to the face. He's been out here long enough for the local fauna to find him and snack on him. Identification is going to be a bitch."

"But you're sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure. He's wearing the same getup the rest of them wear and Del Barco's only missing two guys. It's gotta be one or the other."

"What else did you find?"

"Not much I'm afraid," Vello said standing. "No weapons or anything like that on him. If he had any kind of ID or badge then it's missing. Lieutenant Kay did find a second set of footprints over here though."

Vello gestured over to where Kendra was standing and Radcliffe moved to stand next to the Vornian lieutenant. "Your turn," he said. Kendra tried to fire off another salute but Radcliffe grabbed her wrist halfway through the motion. "If I've asked you once, I've asked you a hundred times Kara, don't salute me. You're not in the Guard anymore."

Kendra gave Radcliffe a look that suggested feelings had been hurt. "Sorry, sir, or uh, Gabriel. Old habits die hard."

"I can vouch for that one," Vello said, spinning his lho stick between his fingers.

"The difference being," Radcliffe said releasing his grip on Kendra's wrist. "Is that the habit you killed, Clyde, would have killed you. But we are all on Valerian's staff and I believe we should all treat each other with a modicum of equality. I am not her superior officer, therefore she has no need to salute."

"Maybe not," Vello said with a smile, relishing the next words that were to come out of his mouth. "But you're the inquisitor's golden boy. That's about as superior as they come in my book." Radcliffe shot Vello a look that would have killed a bull grox but it did nothing to dull the grin plastered on the second man's face.

"As I was saying," Radcliffe said, stressing his words to indicate the subject had been changed. "Kara, show me the footprints you found."

Kendra gestured to the edge of the clearing. There in the dust was the imprint of a set of boots. Radcliffe examined them closely. They were about seven feet from the body. If a man had been standing there they would have been looking the deceased in the face. The prints went no further into the clearing but instead appeared to backtrack a ways through the grass before becoming lost again.

"What does this tell you?" Radcliffe asked aloud to no one in particular. Kendra glanced at Radcliffe then to Vello, who was equally reluctant to speak up. "Well?" Radcliffe pressed.

"Are you asking or are you asking, boss?" Vello asked.

"I have theories. But any theory has holes and we fix those holes by comparing my theories to your theories, and your theories to Kara's theories."

"Well," Kendra said slowly. "This is obviously where the shooter stood. Fired the shots here before fleeing."

"But the shooter was facing the deceased, why does it seem like the deceased failed to register any danger?" Radcliffe asked.

"Knew the shooter?" Vello suggested.

"My thoughts precisely." Radcliffe stood and began pacing around the perimeter of the clearing, careful not to disturb anything. "The shooter met our victim for something. Both knew each other. Something happened to turn the meeting sour. Shooter kills victim and flees. But why?"

Vello and Kendra shared blank looks. "Throne alive," Vello groaned. "You're starting to sound like Valerian when you talk, Gabe. Just fecking tell us what you're thinking."

Radcliffe blinked in surprise. "I have no idea what to think, Clyde," he said. "I'm just talking aloud."

"Aquila!"

The call startled all three in the clearing. After a brief moment to compose themselves again, Kendra gave the answering call. "Throne!" she shouted.

The grasses parted and four Vornian Rifles stepped through. It was Hagar's mob. Hagar, a gruff looking man built like a slab of meat with a beard, stepped forward and saluted Kendra. "Pardon, Lieutenant," he said. "But we found something you might want to see." He reached under his camo cloak and produced what looked like a small leather pouch. He passed it to Kendra who i turn passed it to Radcliffe. The interrogator opened it and studied the contents. After several minutes he spoke.

"Well," he said. "It seems we have finally found out what happened to Kuthra Cho."


	3. Chapter 3: More Questions Than Answers

**Finally, after a long hiatus, I have returned with the third chapter**

* * *

The medical theater was awash with a blinding white light that reflected off the linoleum tiles on the floor. The air smelled of disinfectant and surgical tools lay in neatly arranged rows on short push trolleys, each one gleaming and sinister. The scene was an impressive display of organization. There was not a thing out of place, not a stain to mar the perfection save one.

The body of Kuthra Cho lay on the metal slabbed table at the center of the theater. The chest was splayed open in the 'Y' shape typical of surgical autopsies. The tools on the trolley next to it were clean, but freshly so. A jar of disinfectant sat next to them, the normally clear liquid stained red with the residue of several hours of work.

Dr. Jeune Siroc, a short, portly man who often required the usage of a step stool to perform his work properly, peeled his gloves off as he sat back in his chair and waited. It had taken him four hours to perform the autopsy and he was tired. The body had been out in the brush for several days. That time allowed bird and beast to gnaw, eat, and otherwise play merry hell with the corpse, making Siroc's job that much harder. But he had done it. Now with the information compiled into a single report, he waited for the approval of the interrogator.

Gabriel Radcliffe poured over the report with a frown etched onto his face. Clyde Vello and Lieutenant Karoline Kendra waited in the corner, observing but not speaking. Siroc's report was supposed to provide answers. Judging from the look on Radcliffe's face, it wasn't up to that task.

Radcliffe dropped the report on Siroc's desk and stared pensively at it for several moments, chin resting in his palm. Then his sighed deeply. "What you are telling me," he said, speaking directly to Siroc. "Is that Kuthra Cho was shot twice in the chest, effectively killing him. Then, for some reason, a half hour later, someone returned and took a laspistol to his face. You want me to believe this? This does not make sense."

"I don't care what you believe," Siroc said, wiping his spectacles on his shirt. He had been in the employ of Inquisitor Valerian for several decades now. He knew his job better than any other medicae who had come through. It was why Valerian had kept him around for so long. "And it's not my duty to make sense," he continued, placing his glasses back on his nose. "That's what Valerian employs _you_ for, Interrogator. I merely relate what the corpses tell me."

"Show me," Radciffe said. He stood and invited Siroc to lead him to Cho's corpse. Siroc obliged, stopping momentarily to collect his step stool. He approached the autopsy table and placed the stool to one side. He climbed the stool as Radcliffe took up a position on the oppostie side of the table.

"Here," Sirco said, sliding on a new pair of gloves and pointing to Cho's chest. "Five wounds, las wounds to be precise, small caliber. Probably a pistol." He moved his hands over the corpse, pointing to the characteristics of the wounds and the nature of the flesh as he explained them to Radcliffe. "These first two wounds have burns around them. This tells me they were fired at close range. This one in particular passed through Cho's heart and killed him. These three do not have the same burn rings. They were fired at a longer distance, as were the two head wounds. Judging by the deterioration of the flesh around the wounds, they were made approximately thirty minutes after the first two. Does that satisfy your disbelief?"

Radclfife gave the medical examiner an irritated glare. "Indeed," he sighed and stared at Cho's ruined face. "I'm Cho," he mumbled. "I'm out in the brush with a friend. Friend shoots me dead. Why? Friend returns later to shoot me again? Or was it someone different?"

"Those are questions I cannot answer with my particular art," Siroc said, his voice betraying his lack of concern.

"Maybe we need to find this Cannis guy," Vello offered from the corner, unlit lho stick still in his mouth. "Seems as if he's the only one capable of talking to us about this now anyway."

"How?" Kendra asked. "We have no idea where he went. You'd think Del Barco would keep track of who comes and goes from his worksite, some record or something."

Radcliffe's head shot up so suddenly Siroc flinched back and nearly fell from his stool. Radcliffe swept from the medical theater, leaving Vello and Kendra scrambling to keep up with him.

"Boss!" Vello called. "Where are we going?"

"Master Del Barco has not been entirely forthcoming with us," Radcliffe shouted back. "Time to pay him another visit."

* * *

"I don't like what you are insinuating." Alonzo Del Barco sat back in his chair. The glass of amasec on his desk remained untouched where he poured it not but a moment ago. Radcliffe glowered over him, ignoring the proffered chair. They were in Del Barco's personal quarters. The office was just as ostentatious as the conference room had been, if not on a smaller scale. The floor was coated in red carpet. Del Barco's desk was made of dark hardwood and the chairs on either side matched perfectly. A small side table sat in one corner, topped with several crystal decanters, each holding a different liquor. The glow globes were dimmed, allowing the cracking fireplace to provide the dominant source of light. A high wingback chair sat just off to the side of the fireplace and next to it was a small round table with a stack of books. One was open, the page marked with a blue strip of fabric. Del Barco had clearly been in the midst of relaxing with his chosen text before the Inquisition had interrupted.

"And I don't like it when information is withheld from me," Radcliffe growled. He leaned over Del Barco, hands placed firmly on the man's desk. "You knew Liam Cannis left the dig site. Your company keeps records of all requests for leave during a job. I want access to that database."

"Of course," Del Barco said quickly. "Consider it yours." He reached for his desk and pulled open a drawer. From within he produced a small keycard. "This will give you permission to search all the databases my company keeps."

Radcliffe snatched the card from Del Barco's grasp. "Thank you," he said, turning on his heel. "You do yourself no services this way," he warned.

Del Barco said nothing, staring impassively at the interrogator's retreating form. Vello and Kendra followed Radcliffe out, leaving Del Barco to his amasec.

Out in the corridor, Radcliffe paused, studying the card in his hand. "Something wrong?" Kendra asked.

"I don't know," Radcliffe said. "Del Barco seemed… different."

"How so?"

"When I first questioned the man he was fidgety, afraid, wanted nothing more than to be rid of me. But in his office back there he acted more like…"

"A man who knows something we don't?" Vello ventured.

"Yes. It was almost as if he were a completely different man."

"At least he gave us the card," Kendra said supportively. "We can worry about Del Barco later. Right now we need to find where Liam Cannis got off to."

* * *

The Leviathan had everything needed to run a profitable black market business, including an entire wing dedicated to storing information on dig sites, buyers, sellers, the fluctuation of rates and prices, the status of different artifacts and findings, and how hot those particular items were on Imperial watch lists. They also included dossiers on everyone Del Barco had ever hired or thought he might hire at some point. That was the particular database Radcliffe wanted to see.

The central consul sat in the middle of the cogitarium. The glow globes were recessed into the ceiling and tinted yellow. Their light, combined with the sickly green glow of the cogitator screens, gave the entire room an eerie ominous atmosphere. Cables snaked across the metal floor, connecting into secondary consuls, blocks of data banks and rows of memory stacks.

Radcliffe strode up to the central consul. The screen blinked a message for clearance. Radcliffe produced his Inquisitorial rosette and let the machine scan it. The cogitator was soon obeying his commands. Radcliffe's fingers danced over the keys as he sifted through the information presented to him, trying to find something relevant. Finding Cannis in the system was easy enough. His profile was the same useless half-empty biography Del Barco had provided him with earlier. Radcliffe wasn't interested in that. He adjusted his search, looking for leave requests within the past month.

A prompt appeared on screen when Radcliffe tried to request the information he sought. It was above standard clearance. Radcliffe frowned. His rosette should have given him access to everything. But then again, Del Barco's operation wasn't exactly Imperial standard. It made sense he had safeguards in place to keep people, people like Radcliffe and the Inquisition, from probing their noses too deep into his affairs.

"Keycard, boss?" Vello asked.

Radcliffe nodded and slid the keycard into the access port on the side of the cogitator. At first nothing happened. Then the machine began to hum, the noise growing louder and more violent until the metallic shriek filled the room. The cogitator began to smoke and sparks of electricity arced from its body. The screen went blank and the back of the machine exploded in a flash of smoke and flame. Radcliffe was thrown backwards.

"Fek's sake," Vello coughed. "What just happened."

Radcliffe sat up, rubbing the back of his head where it had smacked on the floor. His skull throbbed and he blinked to refocus his vision. Looking around he spied a secondary consul. "Kara," he said, gesturing in its direction. "Try over there."

Kendra moved to the indicated consul. The screen was on, casting the Vornian's face into green shadow as she stood over it. Her finger struck the keys but the only thing she produced was an error message. The cogitator's memory had been wiped clean.

"_Fekking hell_!" Radcliffe roared, smashing his fist through a memory stack and sending more sparks flying. "He's played us _again_!" Radcliffe stormed from the cogitarium. Vello and Kendra were close behind. Each had the presence of mind to check their weapons as they ran.

Radcliffe didn't bother knocking this time, not that he needed to. The door to Del Barco's office was unlocked. The interrogator swept in with all the force of a warp storm. But three steps into the room and Radcliffe froze in his tracks.

Del Barco's personal office was a wreck. The desk was tipped over, the chairs thrown about. The fireplace contained not a fire, but the wingback chair. The side table was little more than splinters. Someone or something had ransacked Del Barco's office and had been loathe to leave anything unturned.

Radcliffe immediately drew his bolt pistol and held it in front of him, sweeping back and forth. He held up a fist as Vello and Kendra caught up with him. Both stopped as commanded, their mouths open slightly as they took in the scene. Kendra held her laspistol up and Vello braced his autopistol over his left arm, the corresponding hand wielding a short knife that he kept pointing forward. Radcliffe gestured silently for Vello to sweep right while Kendra swept left. Radcliffe took the center.

The main office was clear, that much was obvious. There were no obvious signs of life amidst the mess. To the right was a door, slightly ajar. Vello approached it and, as silently as he could, nudged it open. He disappeared inside for several moments before returning and signaling clear. To the left, Kendra opened a massive armoire of red wood. There was nothing inside, its contents spilled on the ground at her feet.

"What the feck happened?" Vello said aloud.

"Throne knows," Radcliffe said. "What was in there?" He gestured to the room Vello had cleared.

"Bedroom," Vello said. "In a very similar state. No sign of Del Barco."

"He's gone, I believe," Kendra said. She was staring out the window at something. Radcliffe joined her, and she pointed to a dot in the sky. A Testudo-pattern transport shuttle was making all speed away from the Leviathan and the dig site.

"We have to go after him," Vello urged. "The feck-head," he added as an afterthought.

Radcliffe remained silent, watching the shuttle disappear over the horizon. Whatever was going on here, he was back at square one. Del Barco had played him for a fool. But by running Del Barco had admitted to his guilt. And there was still Liam Cannis. Radcliffe's face set in cold determination. There was more work to do. The game wasn't up just yet. There were still so many questions to answer.


End file.
